


What Happens in the Nighttime

by williamastankova



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Boys Kissing, Coming In Pants, Dry Humping, First Kiss, First Time Blow Jobs, Friends to Lovers, Grinding, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Moaning, Rough Kissing, Sharing a Bed, Teasing, pure filth, smoochy times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-28 07:50:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20775089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/williamastankova/pseuds/williamastankova
Summary: There's been a room mix-up, leaving Shane and Ryan to share a bed.





	What Happens in the Nighttime

**Author's Note:**

> let it be stated: I respect Ryan and Shane. I respect the fact that they are friends. This is merely a work of fiction; I do not claim any of this is real!

To put it bluntly, as Ryan's frightened mind is telling him to, this is utter bullshit. Each and every time they go out of their way to contact spirits and demons and whatever else resides in the creepy locations they go to, Ryan asks himself why he does these things. Every time he ends up getting scared shitless, and yet every other time he comes back. He blames Shane wholeheartedly.

Their audience love their dynamic, it seems. Between Ryan always ready to bolt and Shane almost seeming at home in amongst the supernatural beings, they do make for an entertaining team, if not one for Ryan to recall ten years into the future when he's in therapy. Normally, his nerves are settled by the support Shane's fearlessness offers, but in times like these, when they're staying over and both meant to be going to sleep, it's hard to fight the panic.

"Hey," he whispers into the quiet, rolling over to face Shane, his face closer than Ryan had initially anticipated, "You awake?"

Their goddamn hotel room had been messed up, leaving the two fully grown men to share one sole bed. This wouldn't be too bad, Ryan supposed, if one of these men wasn't fifty feet long in height and the other didn't have a budding, bewildering, unjustifiable crush on the aforementioned slenderman. All in all, it was an awful predicament to find themselves in, but there was little to be done about it now.

"Mmm," even this small noise sounded severely irked, which became clearer when Shane continued, "If I wasn't before, I definitely am now."

"I can't sleep," Ryan summed up his experience in merely these three words, assuming they alone would do the job of making Shane feel some sort of pity for him.

"I can," Shane's response came almost instantly, forcing Ryan's stomach down and out through his feet, bleeding into the pristine white sheets. "Go to sleep, Ryan. You don't wanna be awake at three in the morning, do you?"

"Why the fuck would you say that, dude?" Ryan's voice was lost somewhere between angry and terrified, and he was tempted to punish his friend by giving him a firm shove, sending him tumbling off of the bed. He refrained, figuring this would take a great amount of energy and willpower - more than Ryan could conjure then - and besides, the heat Shane's body was radiating was something he wasn't willing to give up just yet.

"Sorry," Shane offered half-heartedly. Had he been sat up, there was no doubt in Ryan's mind that his words would have had a nonchalant shrug attached to them, "Couldn't resist."

"Screw you, Shane," now that Ryan's paranoid mind had been awoken, it was hard to shut it down again. He waited a brief moment, listening to the quiet of the room, trying his best to ignore Shane's breathing, but eventually gave up and resigned. With a huff, he shifted so that he was sat up, body slipping just out of the blanket, now covering only his the lower half of his thighs downwards.

Anxiously, he curled up into himself, bringing his knees up to his chest, nestling his face there, willing himself to pass out at that very moment. He could sense that Shane hadn't gone back to sleep, obviously disturbed at Ryan's sudden movement. The room fell quiet for a moment as the two of them shared a mutual, wordless conversation that could be wholly summed up in the question of 'what the fuck are you doing, Ryan'.

Shane sighed, obviously exhausted but losing his grasp on sleep by the second. He murmured something that Ryan didn't quite catch, and when he didn't respond Shane spoke again, this time raising his mouth up, bypassing the barrier that the blanket acted as.

"Go back to sleep," he told Ryan. It wasn't quite so much an order as it was a gentle suggestion, but either way Ryan ignored him. It was, after all, Shane's fault that Ryan was feeling so awake, and he only felt worse as he cast a look over to the clock which read, at that very moment, 2:47am. He despaired.

"Shut up, dude," he whispered, his voice becoming something venomous, "You go back to sleep."

"I'm trying," Shane responded sardonically, then waited for a beat before too slipping out of the blanket a little to join Ryan with his back on the headboard of the cheap bed. When Ryan finally gathers enough courage to dig his head out of his knees, he casts his eyes over to Shane and finds him looking hollow, like the tired shell of a person.

They don't speak, at least not at first. They just sit there, Shane staring straight ahead like in his mind he's in a hundred different places, probably fast asleep in a hundred different bedrooms and brutally murdering Ryan in at least one of them, and Ryan just watches him. This trance-like state is so mesmerising to him, so fascinating, that he barely notices when Shane's hallucination breaks and suddenly he's looking over at Ryan.

In the barely lit darkness, Shane looks like something other. He doesn't look human, at least not entirely, because when he's bathed in moonlight there's something about the pale skin contrasting his dark hair and eyes that makes him look preternatural. Ryan half expects him to launch at him, to jump atop of him, to rip out his throat and leave him bleeding out. Inside this vile, violent daydream, Ryan doesn't even see Shane begin to move closer to him.

Before he knows what's happening, Shane's kissing him. In fact, he's feeling so out of it that it takes him a good five seconds to register that that indeed what's happening, not something completely platonic and normal. Maybe he should initially freak out more than he is, but something about the fluid motion seems so natural that he's hit by a wave of almost 'of course this is happening. What else?' before he begins to panic.

Hastily, he brings his hands to Shane's chest and gives him a light push. This action forces Shane's lips from his, and he immediately regrets doing so. Even still, now he's done it, he has to go along with it like it's what he intended all along. He begins to chuckle nervously, and can't even stop himself when he sees how suddenly reserved Shane looks.

"Alright, alright," Shane finally interrupts his anxious laughter, obviously trying his best to sound not-offended, "I'm serious, Ryan, go back to sleep."

Ryan can only stare incredulously at his friend as Shane shuffles back under the covers and rolls over, lying facing away from Ryan. How the actual fuck does he think Ryan's going to be able to sleep now? Does he really expect things to go back to normal after that? There isn't a chance in hell, not as long as Ryan is concerned.

"Hey," he calls out softly at first, but when Shane makes no move to turn around he plants a hand firmly on the man's back and gives him a firm shove. He repeats himself, louder this time, "Hey."

"Forget about it, Ryan," Shane insists like that's how any of this works at all, in the slightest, "I don't know why I did it. I'm just tired; go to bed."

"Shane," Ryan says, sounding more and more impatient by the second, "Look at me, man."

Shane is still for the longest time. It's almost like a built-in survival technique, as though he thinks if he's motionless for some time Ryan will just forget he's there and lie down to sleep. When he realises this isn't going to work, he resigns, sighing and propping himself back up again, leaning on the headboard beside Ryan. He doesn't look over.

Ryan lets his mouth open and close twice, each time deciding he doesn't know quite what to say. He'd never anticipated Shane doing _that_, not in real life. That was something for his fantasies, his darkest, most shameful dreams and waking desires. That wasn't something that could actually _happen_, and yet now here they were.

The room is so quiet that it suddenly seems unbearably loud. Ryan needs a distraction from this silence, needs to do something - anything at all - and so he does. Without overthinking any of it, he leans over, bringing a hand to rest on the side of Shane's face, and makes his friend look at him.

He lets Shane register what's happened, and lets the initial shock die down before he tries anything further. Once he's not afraid the man's about to go into cardiac arrest, Ryan leans over and, purposefully and slowly, presses his lips to Shane's. He's sure to flit his eyes between his friend's eyes and mouth all the way, just so he's fully aware of what's coming so he can push away, escape if he wants to. He doesn't; Ryan's eyes flutter shut.

Shane falls momentarily pliant, just letting himself be kissed. In a way, Ryan likes it, because it lets him have some power, lets him explore what he's previously convinced himself he could never have. On the other hand, when Shane grows more confident, he feels a heavy weight lifted from his shoulders, now that he knows Shane wants this just as badly - if not more - than he does.

When the dynamic shifts, it's tangible. They go from feeling like two teenagers experimenting, awkward and uncomfortable, to two desperate men wanting each other so badly that their movements feel infinitely too slow. Ryan's the first to break, and it happens around about when Shane latches his hands onto his waist and tips him so he's lying beneath him, flat on the bed.

At this point, Ryan gives in, breaking their kiss to release some of the neediest, filthiest sounds he's ever produced in his life. He wants Shane to recognise what he's doing to him, how badly Ryan's wanted this but never allowed himself the pleasure. This audible submission makes Shane laugh, and he sounds deliciously breathless.

Ryan wants more. In fact, he wants everything, because a thousand images simultaneously flood through his mind, filling him with desires he'd rather not write home about. He can barely imagine speaking them aloud, but he knows if there's anyone he'd tell, it'd be Shane.

He's just about to go ripping off his shirt when he's stopped. Shane's hand falls to his crotch and he takes him into his hand through the fabric of his bottoms, which suddenly feel far too thick. Even so, the action makes him thrust upwards and forwards, making him grind into Shane, who seems rather pleased with himself and this accomplishment.

Ryan, romantically irked by this, decides to try and teach Shane a lesson. Without warning, he pushes him backwards, managing rather easily to get the man on his back. Ryan relishes in the surprised expression that comes across Shane's face, and notes that he doesn't look anywhere near sleepy anymore.

"You shouldn't have done that, big guy," he says, trying to sound dark and menacing, cursing himself as he bucks once more as he clambers into Shane's lap. Well, he supposes there's still some authority that comes with being a power bottom, no?

The smug smirk comes back to Shane's face, and Ryan decides to kiss it off of him. If he can't dominate him with words, he can do it with actions, and that he does. He all but launches himself at Shane, tackling him, grasping at his face and pulling him into deeper kiss, all the while grinding shamelessly against him, and he's finally started to return the gesture.

Shane's limp hands return, searching for a comfy spot now. They trace his body, run over and under his shirt, feel his hips and come to settle on Ryan's behind. This, it seems, gives him the best leverage, which he uses to his advantage. He pushes Ryan down onto him, making the man moan once more and bury his face into Shane's shoulder. He begins to shudder and, though he's reluctant to finish so early, he feels himself come to the brink of orgasm.

It's vaguely embarrassing, though he only realises this afterwards. In the moment, when he's grinding hotly against Shane, listening to his heavy breathing in his ear and squeezing his eyes tightly shut, it feels natural. And perhaps it shouldn't, perhaps he should find it unbelievably miserable or otherwise nerve-wracking to be so vulnerable, to be clutching at Shane's shirt and shoulders and everything like he's his life support, but it really, _really_ isn't.

And so, with this and little else in mind, Ryan comes, repeating Shane's name over and over again as a mantra or prayer of sorts. He shakes, feeling oh-so sensitive, and it takes him longer than it should to realise Shane hasn't come yet.

"Let me-" he can't finish speaking, because his voice is so unstable. He feels almost like he can't breathe, but as soon as he stops feeling light-headed he shuffles back, leaving Shane's lap, and begins to pull like a distracted cat at the tie to Shane's bottoms.

It takes next to no time for the man to take the hint, and within seconds he's lifting his hips and shifting out of his pants, leaving himself open, bare and exposed. Ryan's never really been in a situation like this, never really done much with a guy, but he figures he can just do what he likes to Shane and see where things go from there.

Casting his gaze up at Shane and holding his eye, he begins to lower himself, bringing his head closer and closer to Shane's painfully hard cock. It almost looks sore, and Ryan immediately wants to relieve him of this pain, and so without any more dramatics or words, he takes it into his mouth.

The reaction is immediate. Shane's close anyway, but with Ryan putting himself on like that, it's hard not to finish before the show's even gotten started. Ryan almost smiles, almost pops off and says some stupid comment, but doesn't. He has a job to do, and he intends to do it very well.

He moves languidly, feeling spent himself, and this works like a charm. Within just a few moments, Shane's clutching wildly at the covers. When he manages a short yet informative and well-appreciated "Ryan, I'm-", Ryan's quick to take his mouth off of the other man's dick, instead replacing it with his hand and working Shane through his climax.

Surprisingly, most of the cum stays off of the bedsheets. Not that it'd be the most noticeable thing in the world, mind, but even still Ryan's not sure they could ever come back here and show their faces knowing what the cleaners might find. Rather, the cum ends up on Ryan, primarily on the hand he'd used to jack Shane off, and it only takes a millisecond for him to decide what he's going to do with it.

He barely even considers rushing to the bathroom and washing his hands, because while he's got Shane here, completely focused on him, why wouldn't he put on a show? For his grand finale, he holds Shane's eye and takes to licking his hand clean, ignoring how salty the taste is. He swallows, and sees that Shane's gaze follows the entire interaction, until the very end.

"I..." Shane tries to speak, but the words get caught up and die in his throat, "Wow. Fucking hell, Ryan."

Ryan, pleased to hear this, smiles to himself and goes to roll off of the bed, ready to clean himself up. He's not going to say anything at first, but then when he begins walking he grimaces, remembering how he had finished, and then complains, "I can't believe you made me cum in my pants."

Ryan can't help but see how Shane's face shifts and notice how dismayed he sounds when he says, "Hm?"

"Emphasis on the 'believe', not on the 'you'," he remarks, and Shane begins to smile again, though he tries to suppress it. Ryan hurries to the bathroom, walking like the floor's hot lava, and cleans himself up first, taking off and discarding safely of his ruined pants.

He comes back a couple of moments later, carrying a wet cloth, ready to clean up any mess they might have left behind. On the way, he flicks on the lights to make his job a whole lot easier, but then Shane makes a strangled noise and begins to laugh, though something about it doesn't seem quite sincere.

"Uh, hey, Ryan?" He asks, sounding nervous.

"Yeah?" Ryan responds as he makes his way over to the other side of the bed, searching for any spillage of any fluids, et cetera. He's blissfully unaware of what Shane's about to say, what breaking news he's about to deliver.

"Did you leave the camera rolling?"

Ryan snaps his head to look over at the camera where they very conspicuously put it. In the heat of the moment, they forgot they'd intended to record the whole night, just in case any ghostly or demonic activity arose as they slept. Ryan gulps, frozen like a deer in headlights, meanwhile Shane's cracking up like it's the funniest thing in the entire world.

Just as he goes to delete the footage forever, Shane interrupts him, "No, don't get rid of it. Just edit it out later; I wanna keep a copy. You know, for personal viewing."

When he adds that last bit, Ryan casts his gaze over to him and quirks an eyebrow, yet all Shane offers in response is a half-hearted shrug. Ryan then joins him in his maniacal laughter, and clambers over to sit beside him once more without switching the camera off. He notes that he's finally feeling drowsy and, even with the light on, finds himself ready to go to sleep.

Just as he's about to do so, however, Shane pipes up once more. What he says is short, discreet and Ryan almost misses it, but for once he's glad he doesn't.

"Hey, look," he says, gently nudging Ryan's head where it now lies on his shoulder, not wanting to startle him too much, "It's 3:03am. You made it through the witching hour without being possessed."

"That I did," Ryan says, taking Shane for his word, then letting out a short burst of bemused laughter, "At least I think so."

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! hope you enjoyed :)
> 
> leave comments/thoughts/etc. below! I'd love to hear what you have to say.


End file.
